The Sting. Kimberley Chambers

The Sting - Kimberley  Chambers


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What’s your full name?’

      Tommy reeled off his name and number, put the phone down and it rang within a couple of minutes, the shrill tone making him jump. ‘Can you help me, please? Uncle Ian turned out to be a pervert and I think I might have killed him.’

      PC Kendall was alarmed. ‘Where are you, Tommy?’

      ‘Along the Old Kent Road. I’m not sure exactly where, but there’s a club over the road playing Ska music with lots of black people going in and out.’

      ‘Where is your uncle?’

      ‘At his house. In my bedroom.’

      ‘What’s the address, Tommy? I need to call an ambulance. It’s for the best, trust me.’

      Tommy reeled off the address.

      ‘Right, stay where you are and I’ll find you. Stay close to or inside the phone box. I’m on my way.’

      A man turned up, wanting to make a call, so Tommy had to leave the phone box. He was huddled inside a shop doorway, clutching his duffel bag to his chest, when he spotted Ronnie Darling walking towards him. Ronnie had his dark hair slicked back, was dressed in a smart suit with a pretty woman on his arm. Tommy had to look twice to make sure it really was him.

      ‘Shit,’ Tommy mumbled, looking at his feet, but it was too late. Ronnie had already clocked him. ‘What’s happening, Tommy lad? What the hell you doing sat there this time of night?’

      ‘I’m waiting for someone.’

      Highly suspicious, Ronnie crouched next to the lad. He looked frozen. ‘Who? Only it’s nearly one and that club over the road kicks out in a bit. Full of Samboes, that is. No way am I leaving you here, it ain’t safe. Come on. You’re coming home with me.’

      Tommy shook his head while praying PC Kendall would hurry up. It seemed ages since they’d spoken. ‘No. I must stay here. I’m waiting for a friend.’

      ‘Danny?’

      ‘No. Not Danny. Look, I’m fine, honest. You go.’

      ‘I’m freezing, Ronnie. What we standing here for?’ asked the pretty blonde.

      Ronnie glared at his current bit of fluff. ‘’Cause this kid is a close family friend and he’s out here on his own. Jump in a sherbet if you’re cold.’

      Clocking a car crawling along the kerb, Tommy leapt up. Thankfully, it wasn’t a marked police car. It was a Volkswagen Beetle.

      As Tommy ran towards the vehicle, Ronnie grabbed hold of his arm. ‘No you don’t, lad. Who is this pal of yours?’

      PC Kendall stepped out of the car and flashed his badge. ‘I’m here to help, Tommy. He called me. He’s in trouble.’

      Ronnie looked at Tommy in disbelief. He’d thought the lad was one of their own. Had he been planted by the Old Bill to befriend his brother? Was he some miniature grass? ‘You little shitbag,’ Ronnie mumbled.

      Tears stinging his eyes, Tommy shoved Ronnie in the chest. He felt so upset Ronnie had turned against him. His heart told him to blurt out the truth to Ronnie. But how could he? Tommy didn’t feel like a little boy any more. No way did he want the Darlings finding out what his uncle had done to him. That was shameful. ‘It ain’t what you think. Tell Danny and your mum thanks for everything. I will never forget you all. You’re like family to me.’

      When Tommy leapt in the car and it sped off, for the first time in his life, Ronnie Darling was speechless.

      Instead of handing Tommy over to the authorities in South London, PC Kendall took him back to Barking police station and gently questioned him there. He had already heard that Ian Taylor had been alive when found, but was in a critical condition and it was touch and go whether he would survive. Apparently, he had lost a lot of blood and had the police not broken the door down when they did, to allow the ambulance men entry, Ian would have been dead within minutes.

      ‘Can you tell us what happened, Tommy?’ asked the blonde female officer. She smelled nice and was quite pretty, like his mum, but no way could Tommy open up to her. ‘Can I talk to Peter alone?’ Tommy asked. PC Kendall had insisted earlier he was to refer to him by his first name. He could tell the lad had experienced a torrid time and wanted him to feel comfortable enough to tell him. He could kind of guess what had happened and his heart went out to the lad. Tommy had always been a good kid.

      ‘Let me speak to Tommy alone,’ Kendall urged his colleague.

      When DS Bright left the room, Kendall repeated the question.

      ‘Uncle Ian did something bad to me. Really bad.’

      ‘Tonight?’

      ‘No. A few weeks ago, but tonight he was going to do it again. I know he was. He came into my bedroom and Auntie Sandra was visiting her sister again. That’s when it happened the last time.’

      Though it was only a few months since Kendall had last seen Tommy Boyle, his once bubbly nature had all but disappeared. The boy was still as polite as ever, but his once sparkling eyes were dull and lifeless – hardly surprising, in the circumstances. Kendall softly asked some more questions, then made a decision. ‘I need you to be brave, Tommy. I want a doctor to examine you. It might prove to be a bit embarrassing and uncomfortable. You OK with that?’

      Tommy shrugged. ‘I suppose so. Will I get sent to a bad boy’s home, d’ya think? Ya know, like Hazel got sent away?’

      Tommy hadn’t explained what had happened to him in explicit detail, but it was crystal clear to Kendall. ‘I’m still in pain when I do number twos and there’s blood on the toilet paper,’ Tommy admitted, staring at his hands in shame.

      Kendall wanted to hug the boy but knew that, after what had happened to him, it might only upset him all the more. He leaned across the desk. ‘I promise you, I will do everything in my power to put that evil bastard away, Tommy. Not you. You were acting in self-defence.’

      ‘I hope he dies,’ Tommy said bluntly.

      ‘I don’t, boy, for your sake. Better if he lives, then gets his just deserts in prison. But that’s between me and you, OK?’

      For the first time since PC Kendall had picked him up, Tommy managed a smile. ‘Yeah. I’d like him to be beaten up badly. Thanks for helping me, Peter. I didn’t know who else to call.’

      The next twenty-four hours passed in a blur for Tommy. He was subjected to an examination, more interviewing and told his uncle was still alive.

      He was then taken to stay with a woman called Maureen who had a clean home in Dagenham. She was kind to him. His bedding smelled fresh and the room was spotless.

      It was on 17 March, his thirteenth birthday, that Tommy was told by a magistrate he would be sent to live at a children’s home in Dagenham.

      PC Kendall, and Maureen whom he’d stayed with the past few nights, accompanied him. Tommy had been told to speak only when spoken to by the magistrate, but was full of questions when they left the hearing. ‘So, is this a bad boy’s home? Will I have to go back to school? Why can’t I live with the Darlings? Will my uncle be sent to prison?’

      Urging Tommy to calm down, PC Kendall answered each question in turn. ‘The home you are going to is the one Maureen thought you would be most suited to. It’s not for children who have been in trouble and it’s mixed, boys and girls. One of Maureen’s friends runs it and Maureen had to pull a lot of strings to get you in there, so you mustn’t let her down, Tommy.’

      ‘I won’t. I remember my mum going to Dagenham once. I think she took my sisters with her too, but I ain’t never been there.’

      ‘At a guess, I’d say Dagenham’s only about four miles from where you used to live. Maureen thought it best you didn’t return to Barking because of the Fletchers and what happened with your mum and sister. You need a fresh start.’

      ‘But


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